


In Their Own Time

by GwendolynGrace



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, Ancient Egypt, Canon-Compliant, Internal Monologue, Interstitial Scenes, Multi, Multiple Partners, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Sibling Incest, expanding mythology, multiple eras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8934058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: Rick O'Connell. Evy Carnahan O'Connell. Ardeth Bey. And Jonathan Carnahan. Perhaps there must always be one of each of them in the world. It's a mechanism to protect against the return of Imhotep and the rise of the Scorpion King.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dani/gifts).



> For the prompt: _I would like a story that deals heavily with the reincarnation themes were touched on in the movie, and the interplay between the past and the present. I would particularly like to see Rick in the past as a Magi and his relationship with Ardeth Bay. I would also see the rest of the family involved and the larger picture between them in both time periods._
> 
> That prompt spawned this concept: a different spin on the idea of reincarnation, and the interconnectivity of the four characters' lives.
> 
> History was viciously mangled in the course of writing this fic. Possibly geography, too. But it's at least as inaccurate as the movies. Parts of both _The Mummy_ and _The Mummy Returns_ are referenced; as well as tangents to _The Scorpion King_. (But only one very minor character point that I liked from _Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor_ because, wow, what a POS that was otherwise.) There is also one subtle reference to the 1951 _The Mummy_ if you can spot it. 
> 
> Very mild trigger warnings for the Egyptian practice of intermarrying royal siblings. Not my fault! That's how they rolled. That said, apologies for any unintentional errors about Egypt, Egyptian mythology, or anything else that is inaccurate. Again...it's at least as inaccurate as the movies!

**Egypt, 1276 B.C.**

"Listen, my children, to my tale. Once and long ago, the Medjai were faithful servants of the Pharaohs. And the greatest of all the Medjai was a man named Ardeth Bey--"

"You're telling it wrong," said the storyteller's companion.

"I'm telling it fine. You've barely let me get started."

"The greatest of the Medjai was Arukh Okh-nel," the second man insisted, and to the children he clarified, " _my_ ancestor."

"As I was saying," the storyteller resumed, "The _greatest_ warrior was a man named Ardeth Bey-- _until_ the day that Arukh Okh-nel faced Anubis himself, and lived to tell the tale." He gazed over the heads of the children at his heckler, with an expression that read, _There, now, are you satisfied?_

The three young listeners, however, were captivated by this introduction. "How could he defeat a god, Uncle?" asked one of the two boys.

"He's going to tell us, Kir," said the girl. "If you'll let him."

"Very true, Your Highness," said the speaker. "He did not _defeat_ Anubis, for no one yet has managed that. No, on this occasion, Arukh Okh-nel merely _outwitted_ Anubis. He challenged the great god to a game of Hounds and Jackals."

"And he won?"

"He won. So Anubis took his soldiers back to the land of the Dead. Pharaoh was told of how Arukh Okh-nel saved the city, and he was pleased. 'A true warrior knows that his wits are his greatest weapon,' said the Morning and Evening Star. For know this, children: every battle is won or lost in the mind. Pharaoh rewarded Arukh Okh-nel and all his family, and marked him with a special sign, here." He reached for the boy's arm, and touched the tattoo above his wrist. "Pharaoh pledged never to forget Arukh's loyal service. And since that day, the sons of Arukh Okh-nel have been given the highest of honors of all the Medjai: to protect Pharaoh's children."

"Like me," said the girl.

"Like you, Your Highness." He turned to the boy who had spoken. "And this is why you, Kir, will grow to become the Princess Nyleveh's personal guard."

"What of me, Father?" the other boy asked.

"You, Arn, shall follow in _my_ footsteps. Learn your lessons well, and one day, you may become the captain of the Medjai, and protect the Pharaohs, and guard against those who would waken the dead at Hamunaptra. For there is also a prophecy. It is prophesied that one day, when she needs them most, three companions will save the Princess, and those three will be her brother the Prince, a Captain of the Medjai, and the Medjai's greatest warrior. And it is prophesied that when a sorcerer of the dead attempts to raise the Scorpion King and Anubis's armies, these same four will be the only force powerful enough to stop them."

"Is it true that the Princess will fall in love with the Medjai?" the girl asked.

The storyteller chuckled, but the other man picked up the tale. "That's a myth, Your Highness. Forget about that part." He looked them over. "All of you. No falling in love."

His statement brought them to uncomfortable silence for a moment, until: "Tell about the priest?" Arn pleaded to change the subject. "The one whose name we must not say?"

"Ah. The priest," said the storyteller, to the relief of the children and the further discomfort of the other man. "This concerns your grandfather, Highness, and your Royal Mother. Several years ago, before you were born, he lusted after Pharaoh's mistress…."

\------------

**Egypt, 1939 A.D.**

Once they knew their pasts, it was easy to identify the thousand little ways in which they echoed their former selves. Easy, but often uncanny. Rick would catch Evy in a certain light, leaning over Alex's bed, for example, or entering a room, and it seemed to him as if the Princess stood before him again. He would reach for his sword reflexively, to make sure he was prepared to protect her, and abort the motion halfway through, when he recognized his subconscious intention. 

And Evy sometimes would find herself looking at Rick, not just as husband and partner, but protector. Honestly, that bit was equally annoying as it was comforting. She'd never wanted to be the sort of woman who needed protecting. How often had she protested exactly that sort of overbearing paternalism when Jonathan tried to play the concerned big brother? Yet there was, she had to admit, some small chamber of her heart that thrilled at the idea that Rick--her Rick--had an ancient destiny to serve as her own guardian and companion. They were fated. 

And Ardeth...Ardeth was always there, even when he was not with them. Hardly a year went by after the Scorpion King without one or the other finding a reason to return to Egypt. And whenever they visited, they sought out their friend.

Even Jonathan, who made no secret of his distaste for their dangerous adventures, could be counted on to tag along if there were any prospect of increasing his reputation--and wealth--through the excavation and authentication of artifacts recovered on their trips. So they would drag Alex out of school and Rick would cram every conceivable weapon into his trunks, while Evy prioritized books over clothes and shoes, and they would find lodging in Memphis, Giza, or Thebes, or wherever their fancy took them. Ardeth would sometimes join them while they excavated, if his duties permitted it.

None of them would ever admit it, but their relief that they never again had an encounter as dangerous or thrilling as their battles with Imhotep was often mixed with a tinge of disappointment. As if there were no more adventures to be had--as though the many times they'd faced death at Imhotep's hands were not enough peril for a lifetime. For a thousand lifetimes. It's not that they had no excitement. In fact, Evy and Rick had recently been talking quietly about offering their services to the British government in the face of Germany's latest antics. But even so clear and present an evil as the fascist Germans paled when compared to the supernatural powers of the Mummy.

Still, it was pleasant to spend time in each other's company. There was a comfort to being together with others who had lived through the same extraordinary experiences and who, as a result, did not question them. Late at night when Alex was asleep, they would open a bottle of wine, recline in the Egyptian style on pillows and low couches, and discuss their memories from the ancient past.

"I remember this one day," Rick said once, filling his wine glass, "when I went with you to watch them finish your father's palace in Luxor. And in the middle of the desert road, there was a nest of snakes. They spooked the chariot we were in."

"I think I remember that!" Evy said in wonder. "Only it wasn't the palace, it was Pharaoh's temple to Ma'at, outside of Giza."

"No," said Rick, "I'm pretty sure it was Luxor. It was just a short way away from the banks. We had to cross the river to get there."

"No, we were driving along the Nile, not crossing it."

"My dear ones," Ardeth interjected, for they were doing that thing they did where each of them dug in their heels, "I think you are both correct."

"How can they both be right?" Jonathan asked, leaning back on his pillows. "One of them remembers driving perpendicular to the river and the other following it."

"I believe they are remembering something that happened on two different occasions."

"Well, that's just ridiculous," Rick said. "The same thing happened on two different trips? What's the likelihood of that?"

"Consider this: the same incident occurred, my friend, but in two different lifetimes."

His statement caused the other three to pause. Ardeth marvelled that it seemed none of them had even thought of it before.

Evy sat up and was first to speak again. "You mean, you think that the lives we remember from Imhotep's time--those weren't the only ones we've lived? That's--now that you say it, it seems so obvious."

"Of course," Ardeth said. "I have meditated often on this. I can recall many, many lives that I have lived. I can even recall a time when I was not Medjai, but was _looking_ for Imhotep myself. (Thank Allah I did not succeed!) I believe that ours are souls that have been brought back over and over, against the possibility that Imhotep might return. Perhaps there must always be an Evy, an O'Connell, and an Ardeth Bey in the world."

"What about a Jonathan?" Jonathan asked.

"Perhaps," Ardeth said, smiling. He cannot--will not--say what he wants to say about their connections, and how deeply they run. They all must come to what they know in their own time. "Is it not extraordinary that in all your lives, you have found your ways to Egypt? Is it not remarkable to think that we have always been destined to find one another? Just imagine all the lives we might have shared together…."

\------------

**Egypt, 1276 B.C.**

The children rose from their pillows and separated: the princess to her lessons; the boys to the practice yard.

"You overindulge them," Arukh's descendant said.

"And you, my dear, do not see their thirst to learn." The Medjai's captain put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "They need to know how they're connected to one another."

"How _we're_ connected, you mean?" He grimaced. "I prefer not to think about those days. I should have been there for Nefertiri, but I wasn't. And don't ever mention them falling in love again, will you? I don't think my son needs any encouragement to feel connected to the Princess."

"No," said the Captain with a sigh. "Or she to him. And that has always been one of the cruelties of our fate. I won't tell them that little detail, my dear. But that may not matter, you know. A prophecy is a prophecy."

The Medjai only grunted. "It may be a prophecy, but it's not one we need to pass on so faithfully. No, the truth is, I'm afraid you're right. It may already be too late for them."

The Captain moved closer, still, draping an arm over his friend. "I pray that one day they'll be reborn into a world where they can be together without impediment. We are lucky that Pharaoh is over-concerned with his wars in the East, and pays little attention to his daughter."

"Or his queen. Being in love with a princess isn't always a chariot ride," said the other. "Kir might be better off to find some palace servant to catch his eye."

"Like you?" the Captain teased. "How many nights did you cry into your wine when Nefertiri married Ramesses?"

"Which is precisely why I'd spare the boy, if I could." 

"You can't. Any more than I can spare you." He looked out over the palace courtyard in the direction the boys had gone. "Or Arn." He sighed. "I wish any of our paths could be simple."

"Mine's as simple as it gets," the Medjai said. "Protect the royal family. Come home. Be with you. I can't afford any other complication." 

The Captain smiled. "As it happens, I have no duties this afternoon."

"Neither have I." They retreated to the coolness of their chamber. 

An hour or so later, after they rose from their couch, the two Medjai wandered back to the practice yard to watch their sons in training. Instead of the clacking of reed poles in the place of swords and axes, they heard the shrill cries of strife on the field.

"I most certainly _can_ learn the _khopesh_ , and you _will_ teach me alongside the boys," Princess Nyleveh said in her most imperious tone. 

The weapons master caught sight of the two men. He raised a helpless shrug toward them. The Captain laughed and waved him on. "She is right, Fahmen. It is wise to learn self-defense, even if she has guards aplenty." To his companion he said, "How like her mother she is."

"Indeed," said the descendant of Arukh, but a shadow of regret passed over his face. The Captain took his hand. "She loves you, too, my love."

"And you."

The Captain laughed again. "She tolerates me. If her duty had not demanded otherwise, you two would have been happy. But then, you would not have Kir, nor she Nyleveh, and our lives would not be as they are."

"I know." He let go the other's hand and stretched. "Just once, though, I wish I could be certain that our sacrifices will be worthwhile. Will the prophecy come true? Will there be four who can defeat the armies of the dead?"

\------------

**Egypt, 1926 A.D.**

Rick stormed through the sewers and doubled back to the car without a second thought. To his relief, Imhotep's hypnosis of the Egyptian horde had worn off as soon as Imhotep himself had vanished, so they were able to return without a fresh fight. But even if they had had to fight their way, Rick would have done it. And he would have been confident that he'd win, too. He was wholly focused on the need to save Evy from Imhotep. He wasn't even certain what gave him such a fervor, other than human decency in the face of a supernatural horror. But most men would turn from something so frightening, particularly when they had no personal stake in the matter. Rick had only met Evelyn a few days ago, and yet, he felt as if he had no choice but to rescue her. Jonathan, of course, was fully on-board, and strangely, so was Ardeth Bey.

Ardeth Bey. They'd been adversaries until mere hours earlier, and yet it felt strangely fitting to ride with Ardeth by his side, even if it was in a car and not on horseback. Rick had the strangest sense that they had done this before. But it wasn't possible. The few times he'd ever seen Ardeth before were at a distance--or when the other was trying to kill him.

"Was that your father?" he asked as they headed to the airfield. The man's fez, his _khopesh_ , and a stain on the ground were the only remaining sign that he'd held off the mob while they escaped. 

"My uncle," Ardeth said. "He died to save us. It was a good death, I think."

Rick couldn't argue. Dying to save someone else would be a good death. Living would be better, though. Living with Evy would be even better still.

He made up his mind that nothing and no one was going to stop him saving her.

\------------

**Egypt, 1270 B.C.**

"Kir!" Princess Nyleveh called. "Come back!"

He paused, leaning his hand on an alabaster column. Slowly, with stooping shoulders, he turned. "Highness, I--"

"You can't leave," she said, rushing up to him. "I won't let you."

"That's just the problem," Kir replied. "If I stay, I can never be more than a servant." He reached up as if to touch her hair, but at the last moment, stopped himself. His hand hovered an inch away from her. "I don't want to live like that."

"Then I'm coming with you," Nyleveh said. "I don't care."

"No," Kir said. "Your place is here."

"And so is yours."

"As your bodyguard. No."

"Then let me come with you."

"And live in the desert? I'm a warrior, Highness. I will go where there are wars."

"I can fight."

He shook his head. "Not well enough. No, I'm sorry. I love you, and I love that you always wanted to take lessons with us, but you're not made for wars. Arn will take care of you."

"Arn," she scoffed. "Arn's going to be Captain."

"He'll see to it that you have the best guards there are. And--you'll marry soon."

"They're making me marry my _brother_!" she yelled. "Now shut up. I'm coming with you."

Kir grimaced. "If I run away, they'll be upset, but Father will let me go. He'll understand why, and he won't come after me. If _we_ run away, they'll chase us to the ends of the earth."

"Then let them chase us. We'll go north to the barbarians of Greece. They'll have to take us, if only to spite my father." She took his hands; he looked at her fingers holding his as if they were pure gold. Nyleveh squeezed and shook them to emphasize her urgency. "We only have to make it to Rhakotis, Kir. From there we can leave Egypt and no one will stop us. If we just go, we could be halfway down the river before anyone knows we've gone."

Kir considered. "What about the prophecy?" he asked.

"If the prophecy is true, then we will still be together."

"Without Arn, though," he pointed out.

"Would he come?" she countered.

Kir's face darkened. "No," he agreed. "No, he would not. But he might help us."

"Then? Why wait?"

Kir let go of her hand. "All right. We must be quick about it. Meet me in the practice yard in thirty minutes--take only one basket, as if you wish to carry a picnic. Anything more will draw notice. Understand?"

"Yes," she assured him. "I'll be there."

They parted without any further need to plan. Kir hurried to the stables and ordered the Princess's riding chariot prepared. "No slaves; I'll drive Her Highness myself," he told them.

Then he went to the cell he shared with Arn and put on his best arm ring and collar, his sword belt, and all his armor. He put the ring on his finger that Nyleveh had given him on the day he came of age. There was nothing else to pack. He considered leaving a note for Arn but decided against it; there was too much risk that someone else might find it. Instead, he took the extra time to go and find Arn where he was on duty at the eastern gate. 

"Hello, brother," he said cheerfully as he approached. Arn was sitting in the shade of the tower wall, among a few others. They were dicing. 

"Kir!" Arn greeted him. "Come to lose to me as well?"

"No, to speak with you. Time is short, will you come away?"

"And desert my post?" Arn winked at his companions.

Kir smiled at them all, though it did not reach his eyes. "I think they can spare you for a few moments. If barbarians storm the gate, I'll join you." They laughed and told Arn to go and give them time to recoup some of their bets. 

"You certainly look prepared for barbarians," Arn said to Kir as they walked along the base of the wall. "You're even carrying your spear."

"Yes. The road to Rhakotis has many perils." Kir let the words fall quietly, but they still landed on Arn with such a shock that he halted. Kir took his arm. "Keep walking, or they'll notice."

"You're really going to do it this time?" Arn said. "Did you say goodbye to the Princess yet?"

Kir only looked over at Arn and quirked his eyebrows upward.

"Oh!' said Arn, but at least this time he did not stop in his tracks again. Instead, he put one hand heavily on the other's shoulder. "Are you crazy? They'll hunt you. They'll catch you and they'll kill you."

"Not if you help us," Kir said simply. He judged the distance between the tower and the next guardpost to be about equal, so he turned in Arn's path to face him. "We're leaving by this gate in fifteen minutes. If you were to send your gambling friends away, we could add hours to our lead. Simply don't tell the next shift that we left by this road."

Arn searched his friend's face. "You don't ask me to come with you," he said--not angrily, but with recognition as a fact.

"Would you come if I asked?" Kir replied.

"No," Arn admitted after a moment. "My place is here. My duty lies here."

Kir nodded. "And that's the only reason I didn't ask."

"If they find out I helped you leave with her--"

"I know. But you are destined to become Captain, aren't you? So you'll be fine." He touched Arn's shoulder. "When have I asked anything of you?"

Arn barked with laughter. "All the time," he countered. "But I suppose one more favor won't go amiss." He gazed at the sun. "Will you follow the river?" 

Kir nodded. "I mean to cross at Karnak. If we're lucky we can reach Nagada by morning."

"Don't tell me anything more," Arn said. "The less I know, the better."

"All right." He clasped Arn's forearm. "So this is goodbye."

"Yes," Arn said softly. "I will miss you, brother."

"Me, too. I hope I'll miss you for a long time."

Arn knew what he meant, but could say nothing. He merely turned back to the men on their makeshift seats.

"All right!" he shouted as he returned. "Off with you all, now!"

They protested that they wanted to earn back his winnings, and that it wasn't fair.

"You'll only lose even more. Be glad my friend here teaches me generosity. Go! If you've no duties to attend, then polish your armor." He aimed a kick at one of the men's ankles. They grumbled, but soon decided to take their game to the kitchen garden.

"I'll be back soon," Kir said. He walked back to the stables and collected Nyleveh's chariot, which he drove around to the practice yard. Nyveleh was just arriving when he got there.

"About time," she said huffily, and loudly for anyone to hear. "Amun-Ra is already nearing the top of the world."

"My apologies, Your Highness," said Kir. "But all is arranged as you requested." 

"Good," Nyveleh answered. chin in the air. "Then you may take this." She handed him her basket. It was a trifle larger than he'd hoped, but not outrageously so. It was, however, decidedly heavier than a lunch basket ought to be.

He took it aboard and then offered his hand to steady her as she climbed up. "To the southern gate, Your Highness?" he asked with the tone one seeking confirmation.

"The south?" she repeated, eyes wide. He bugged his eyes, nostrils flaring as he willed her to catch on. "Oh. Yes. At once," she ordered. Kir was grateful the yard was nearly deserted at this hour, while most people sought the coolest shade available. He flicked the reins to turn the horses away.

"The south gate?" she whispered to him incredulously. "I thought we were--"

"We're going east," he murmured, barely audible over the clatter of the harnesses and the wheels. "Arn will be alone; he'll let us through."

"Thank Bast," she sighed.

They pulled up at the gate, where just as Kir said, Arn was by himself. "I sent Kobar on a trivial errand. He'll be back any moment." He reached up to kiss Nyleveh's hand. "Gods go with you," he said, "and be good to my idiot brother here."

She smiled. "I will." 

Kir leaned across her to clasp hands with Arn. "We must go. When you have to confess, confess. But tell my father--"

"I'll tell him you will protect her no matter where you go," Arn said. "I'll see you both in our next life."

Blinking back tears, Kir led the chariot out and down along the city. They turned north at the ferry and crossed to Luxor, just as Kir planned. "We'll be back this evening," he told the ferryman. "Mind you do not go home before Her Highness returns."

Tugging his forelock, the man bowed low and promised he would wait. 

On the other side of the river, Kir drove another hour or so until they reached a merchant quarter. Here the barges took on cargo and passengers bound for Cairo and the vast Middle Sea. They sold the chariot, the horse, and Kir's collar. With the money they got, they could buy passage down the Nile and would, Kir hoped, have enough to cross the ocean, too. 

As the barge sailed away, Nyleveh removed her veil and wig, revealing her close-cropped hair. She took an alabaster ring from her finger and gave it to Kir. "I take you for my own," she said solemnly.

Kir took off the only other ring he had ever owned: a slim circle of sandstone his mother had fashioned for him long ago. "I take you for my own," he repeated, placing it on her hand. They kissed, much to the delight of the ship captain. He offered them his own cabin for a honeymoon suite that night.

Kir was overcome by a wave of confidence. He grew convinced that they would make it to Rhakotis, that the Greeks called Thonis, and that they would not be caught. Even if they were, he reasoned, these moments of freedom were worth the risk. And if he never saw Egypt again--well, so long as he had Nyleveh, he could make his home anywhere.

\------------

 **Egypt, 1936 A.D.**

He could not honestly say that he liked Rick O'Connell from the first. Too much trouble surrounded the man. Ardeth Bey preferred a quiet life. He'd been taught the prophecies since his earliest days, but in truth, he would have been just as pleased had the prophecy befallen one of his progeny, rather than himself. Nonetheless, it was undeniably adventurous to have put Imhotep down once. He feared from that day that they had not seen the last of the mummy--after all, they had not yet encountered the Scorpion King.

So in the years following the excitement at Hamunaptra, Ardeth Bey kept close tabs on the O'Connells. He kept watch over the city as well, of course. When Hafez's efforts resulted in uncovering Imhotep, and then pursuing the Bracelet of Anubis to London, Ardeth had no doubt who he would find at the center of the mystery.

Once he saw Rick's tattoo, and learned that Rick had been orphaned in Cairo, things made even more sense. Standing there, discussing the merits of the tommy gun over the shotgun, Ardeth Bey was struck by all the ways he should have known that Rick O'Connell was none other than the legendary Arukh Okh-nel come back to life again. Their connection, their bond, even separated by continents over almost a decade, made perfect sense. He was only astonished he had not seen it sooner--in fact, as a child, he had thought he would know instantly when he found his counterparts. It was a little disappointing to learn that even he had to come to see the truth of the thing gradually, not all at once like a bolt from the sky. He longed to tell Rick all about the past times he had seen in which the two of them were more like brothers than allies. But Ardeth could not afford to overwhelm Rick with details. The man was frustratingly blind to his extraordinary fate. Instead, mindful of all the lessons that generations had to impart to him, Ardeth approached Rick very carefully about his reincarnation along the journey to find young Alex. He had to treat Rick rather like a wild peregrine: keep him hooded, allow him only to glimpse the larger world as Ardeth revealed it to him, and not inundate him with the enormity of his importance. With Evy experiencing her own flashbacks, it would not do to tell Rick all that Ardeth already knew. He had to learn it on his own, in his own time. But damn, if it was not difficult to remain patient.

For example, he did not take the time to explain to Rick all his reasons for staying to help them rescue Alex. It wasn't only the right thing to do; it wasn't simply expedience or gratitude, or even affection, for them. It was out of respect for the Medjai warrior he now knew Rick to be. Out of love for a man Ardeth only remembered as an age-old ache in the heart. He should have put it together, he told himself, long before--for how else could Rick survive in the situations he got himself into? Moreover, Rick was an even more effective warrior when his family's life was at stake--when Evelyn or Alex or even Jonathan's lives were on the line.

As for Jonathan...the man never failed to surprise. He seemed such a fool in so many ways, but Ardeth appreciated his honorable heart. And, it turned out, his not exaggerated sense of aim. If he was who Ardeth suspected, then it made a certain sort of sense that Jonathan could come through in a clinch. And that he always seemed to land on his feet, materially, as well. 

Ardeth regretted not being able to stay, but once Rick and Evy had their son, he knew his duty had to take precedence again. The messages he had sent made the need clear: It was time for every Medjai past and present, for the entire army of believers, to assemble. He prayed it would not be necessary, but with the O'Connells, he had learned, it was always best to be prepared. (He remembered a past life in the 18th century in which they had barely outrun Napoleon's forces, but that was another story.) The armies of Anubis--they had been the creatures of his and his fellows' bedtime ghost stories when he was younger. He knew that they must be beheaded to be defeated--and he knew that if the worse came to worst, there would be more and more of them. 

So it was on that morning. When the sand settled around them and he was still alive, he knew they had only survived the first wave. Rick, Evy, and Jonathan were their only hope. It was the most difficult thing he had ever done to lead his men to their certain death…and it was the most euphoric feeling he had ever experienced to see the clouds of black dust dissipate around them, and know that Rick--that his age old friend and brother--had prevailed.

He did not even mind remaining on the ground as they departed in that British madman's infernal flying machine. He belonged in Egypt, for he was now more certain than ever that his life and his duty were not spent in vain. His place was here, on the sands, keeping his vigil as ever. And the O'Connells? 

He would see them again. In this life, and in the next.

\------------

**Egypt, 1286 B.C.**

It has been four years since Imhotep and Anck-su-namun betrayed and murdered her father, and still Nefertiri feels an emptiness. Ramesses, her brother, is Pharaoh now. He lost no time claiming his birthright, and his bride. Her son is three. It is his birthday. 

But her eyes travel not to her child, nor to her king and husband, but to a certain Medjai guard in the courtroom. She is careful not to look his way too often, or too long. Rikh Ankh-conn is his name. She has loved him as long as she has known the meaning of the word.

Beside him is his best friend, recently made second in command of Pharaoh's Medjai. Ard Bey, he is called. She has always known him to be diligent, fair, but somehow harder than Rikh. Less indulgent. She's heard a rumor that his wife was recently delivered of a boy, and she wonders if that means Ard will change toward the world, knowing his son now lives in it.

Her brother-husband-king shares many of their father's flaws. He is too easily impressed by riches; he has always been a fool for women. And yet, she cannot bring herself to hate him for it. He does many things well, he is a good ruler, on the whole, and he has never treated her poorly. She loves him, both as a brother and a husband, but not as a lover. Never quite that. She is Queen of Egypt. Yet this is not how she imagined her life would be. Once, she imagined that she and Rikh might run away to save her from a marriage that she somehow knew was unwise. Rikh never took her hints, never forgot his place. He clung steadfastly to his duty. Perhaps he thought there would be time. And then there was none.

It is a great regret. Maybe it is her _greatest_ regret.

But if they had seized their moment and run, she thinks, then she would not have been on hand when Ankh-su-namun and Imhotep planned their treachery; she would not have been able to take swift action to summon the Medjai and protect the bracelet of Anubis. She would not have been there to order the Hom Dai and to encourage her brother to see to it that Imhotep was captured and executed. At every turn, she expected that she and Rikh and Ard were the ones prophesied to put down the armies of the dead. But despite her conviction, the sorcerer Imhotep was tracked down in the desert and brought back to Hamunaptra, where he was executed by the horrifying rite. Nefertiri's rage and vengeance knew no bounds. Furthermore, she advocated swapping the books of the living and the dead, leaving misleading glyphs on the stones, and burying the Bracelet deep in the sands.

Ard recommended caution, at the time. "We cannot know what is in store until it comes to pass," he had said. Calmly, he asked Ramesses for an outpost at Hamunaptra to keep watch over the tombs. Ramesses granted the request, absently, as he so often did things. By Ard's command, a company of men was attached to the city of the dead forevermore.

Nefertiri wonders why Rikh does not volunteer to command that garrison--far from the palace--but she fears she knows the answer. He also has a son, she knows. And she will soon bring another child into the world. The priestess of Tefnut tells her it will be a girl. 

She plans to make sure her daughter learns to fight. She must learn to defend herself, to stand up for herself. She must not be forced into marriage with her brother, the young Ramesses now being anointed by the priests. If this child wishes to run, Nefertiri thinks, then let her run, and the gods go with her.

Across the throne room, Rikh and Ard smile at one another. Rikh whispers something in Ard's ear which makes the other chuckle. Then Rikh catches Nefertiri's eye. He blushes--the man actually has the shame to _blush_ \--and he ducks his head away. So, he _does_ still care, she sees. That's good to know.

She gazes at her son, toddling forward to investigate a birthday present. As she looks on, the gods are good: She is granted a vision. Her eyes and ears fill with an onslaught of imaginings. People rush about in carriages with no horses, at great speeds. She sees her son, now a man, and her daughter, a young woman, studying their hieroglyphs in a large room with many rows of shelves. Instead of proper rolls of papyrus, these shelves groan and creak with leather-bound tablets. Her daughter is her own image come to life. The vision swims and shifts, and the siblings are joined by Ard and Rikh--but not as they are now, as they _will be_. Her daughter reads the stone at a palace in Memphis; she discovers the resting place of the Bracelet; Ramesses throws Rikh the spear to destroy the Scorpion King. She cannot tell when it will be, in what future, but she sees enough to know that if the gods are good, they will succeed. She sees the four of them, older still, reclined on pillows, drinking wine. They are safe. They are together.

She decides that later, she will go to the temple of Amun-Ra, to Bast and to Sekhmet, and leave gifts of thanks and offerings of continued prosperity. Perhaps she will seek Rikh out, after the day's festivities, and ask to speak of old times. Perhaps she and Rikh and Ard will find themselves that evening, reclining on pillows, talking as they did when they were children together. They will drink wine and dream together. Perhaps more. Their eternal dance will go on.

\------------

**Alexandria, 336 A.D.**

"Eva, come look at this!" the youth called.

The girl trotted up beside her brother. "A statue of Horus!" she said appreciatively.

"I think it's gold. Would you like it for a birthday present?"

"That's very kind of you Janus, but...no, I think I'm a little too old for idols. I'd much rather have a pot of kohl."

"Mother says you're not to start wearing makeup or sewing your hair until you're at least twelve."

"Since when do we always do what Mother says?" she asked. "I won't tell, and I promise I'll hide it from Lavinia. She never cleans my room; we have a pact."

The young man considered. "Well...all right. If that's what you want. The gold's worth much more than some silly old charcoal, though," he pointed out.

"But it won't make me as pleased," she explained. She was already skipping off into the marketplace. 

"Evangelina!" Janus cried, following. She turned, giggling, and bumped right into another pair of boys. They were closer to his age than hers.

"Oh!" she said, bouncing away from the darker one. 

"Are you all right?" asked the fair-haired one.

"Yes, I'm fine. Are you?" she was blinking up at him much too happily. Janus hurried to join him.

"They're fine, Eva, aren't you lads fine? See, they're all right. Let's go." He took her by the arm, but she twisted away.

"I'm Evangelina. What's your name?" she asked the boys.

"I'm Alaric, and this is Ardis," the fairer one said, introducing the dark-haired youth. "You don't have to rush off--I mean, unless you really _do_..."

"We do," Janus said, just as Eva said, "No, we've no plans. Oh, this is my big brother, Janus. He's taking me shopping. Today's my birthday."

"Hello," Alaric said to Janus.

"Alaric. That's not a Greek name. Are you barbarians?" Janus asked bluntly.

"Janus!" Eva gasped, but Alaric laughed.

"We're with the theatre troupe. We travel all over."

"Really, that's fascinating. Come on, Eva--"

"No, I want to talk to them! It's my birthday and Mother said to enjoy myself, so that's what I'm doing." She turned to the boys. "Do you like _dolmathes_? You know, stuffed grape leaves? There's a place nearby that makes them. And olive tarts."

Alaric looked at his friend, who shrugged. "We've got a little time," Alaric said. "I've never had an olive tart. I'd love to try it."

He offered his arm to the girl. As she took it, she noted the flash of ink on his arm. "What's that? A tattoo?" she asked.

"Oh. It's been there since I can remember," he explained. "We thought maybe it was something my parents did so they could find me later, but--they never came back."

Ardis fell into step beside Janus. "Don't worry," he said a little too ominously for true comfort. "We're not thieves. In fact, I think we're all going to become good friends."

Janus wasn't sure how he could be so sure of that, but watching his sister walk alongside the youth ahead of them, he seemed oddly at peace with the idea that these two strangers might well become lifelong acquaintances. Certainly, a life among actors had to be exciting compared to his lessons and riding and wondering who his parents had arranged for him to marry. Maybe they would even have an adventure together….

\------------

**Egypt, 1906 A.D.**

"Listen, my children, to my tale. Once and long ago, the Medjai were faithful servants of the Pharaohs...."

Ardeth Bey sits on the sand at his grandfather's feet. He has heard this story countless times, but he never tires of it. Already, even so young, he has had visions of his past selves. Already, he has dedicated himself to training, because he is certain, he will need it one day.

He knows no one else in the tribe at present who could be his Arukh Okh-nel, or his Nefertiri, or even his Ramesses. But he also knows that before long, he'll meet them. He hopes he will recognize them when that day comes. He wonders if they, too, will know him, or if he will be the only one familiar with the history, the legends, that they are destined to fulfill. Regardless, Ardeth Bey prepares. He'll meet them, he's sure, and even if none of them know it at first, they will each come to know, and they will be together again. They will each come to it in their own time. And if not in this life, then in the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> I must apologize, Dani, if this misses the mark of your request. I was very happy to get this as a pinch-hit, but I feel like I did not have enough time to give this story concept justice, and it deserves more than I could do in the very short notice I had. I might add some chapters or adventures later to flesh out the odd idea that their souls might coexist in every generation of their descendants, rather than a reoccurring singularity that "jumps" from discrete person to person either instantly at the point of death/birth or skipping forward a few years. I hope it works as I envisioned it, and that it conforms with movie canon well enough despite the contained Then and Now timelines that were explored in the films. 
> 
> I struggled with timeline on this, but hopefully it makes sense. If you are unfamiliar or don't remember:
> 
> 1290 BC - Seti, Imhotep, Ankh-su-namun, and Nefertiri's timeline from the movies  
> 1926 AD - Evy Carnahan and Rick O'Connell face Imhotep in _The Mummy_  
>  1936 AD - Evy O'Connell and Rick O'Connell face Imhotep again in _The Mummy Returns_
> 
> BTW, Rhakotis was the Egyptian settlement that eventually became Alexandria.
> 
> Does it count as "original characters" when they're an original reincarnation of a canon character? Is that too meta? 
> 
> Anyway - I hope you enjoy this, Dani! Happy Yuletide.


End file.
